


At The Midnight Hour, Part III: Concupiscence

by translorastyrell (nerddowell)



Series: At The Midnight Hour (Vampire AU) [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood Drinking, Human/Vampire Relationship, M/M, Vampire Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 17:41:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16497218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerddowell/pseuds/translorastyrell
Summary: The hunger rises, sharp as a knife, a craving that consumes him entirely: the desire to hold the boy still, tear open that beautiful white throat with his teeth and gorge himself until the heart stops and the blood no longer flows to his tongue. How easy it would be, how fragile the boy is, how terrifying the concept that with the slightest slip in his concentration, Oberyn could quite literally tear him apart.Another sequel toAt The Midnight Hour.





	At The Midnight Hour, Part III: Concupiscence

The boy is more beautiful that he has any right to be, in truth. The vampire, veteran of centuries on the earth, has seen many such boys come and go in and out of his bed, though rarely has any of them captured his attention so strongly. The boy rises and falls in his lap, riding the cock spearing him apart, cold hands tight on his hips to guide his movements. The vampire watches, almost disinterestedly; although the sensation is loosely pleasurable - a warmth against him, the almost-forgotten tingle of human sexual pleasure - the true reward for him waits until the boy is just riding the crest, ready to topple into oblivion.

Oberyn’s eyes, black and wicked and ravenous, stare not at Renly’s face but his chest, flushed a becoming dusky pink, his heartbeat thundering behind the cage of his ribs, forcing the blood around his body. He leans forward, cradling the boy’s hips in strong hands, to trace the throbbing vein with his lips. The hunger rises, sharp as a knife, a craving that consumes him entirely: the desire to hold the boy still, tear open that beautiful white throat with his teeth and gorge himself until the heart stops and the blood no longer flows to his tongue. How easy it would be, how fragile the boy is, how terrifying the concept that with the slightest slip in his concentration, Oberyn could quite literally tear him apart.

Renly arches with a splintered cry, desperation written all over his face, and Oberyn pulls out to throw him down on the mattress, buried deep inside him again before the boy has time to blink. He grips the boy’s hips tightly, feeling the bones - so delicate, like chalk - protest beneath his fingers, listens to Renly whimper and feels him buck beneath him. Lifts a hand, strokes the tip of one finger through the white translucent beads dripping from the head of the boy’s cock. Renly spasms, cries out, spills warm and wet over Oberyn’s hand, pulses in time to the rocking of Oberyn’s hips and the thunder of his own heart.

Oberyn smiles, teeth flashing in the lamplight, and Renly tilts back his head in acquiescence.

The boy’s neck is pink with exertion, skin sweat-slick and gossamer-thin over the pulse, hot enough to brand against the vampire’s cool cheek. He traces the vein with his mouth, Renly sighing in pleasure at the brush of those dry lips over his heated flesh, before he opens his jaws and sinks in his teeth. The boy flinches, begins to struggle; the vampire’s arms, like iron bars, grip him tight, crush him to the cold chest as he drinks his fill. Renly goes from struggling - fearful, frantic - to loose and compliant, eyelids fluttering and body soft and warm as handled wax. Oberyn lets him go a moment later, clean-lipped and fastidious, only the reddish tint to his teeth and the still-bleeding puncture wounds on Renly’s neck to show what he has done.

‘Rest, little one,’ he tells Renly, stroking his hair back from his face. ‘You will be very tired.’

‘You were hungry tonight,’ the boy slurs, sounding drunk from loss, ‘you don’t usually take so much.’

‘You are too great a temptation, sweet boy.’ Oberyn smiles again, gentle this time. ‘I could eat you up, I love you so.’


End file.
